


Beware of Spiders

by Aurrus



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Fenhawke Week, Fluff, M/M, Teeny-Tiny Bit of Angst, and pining, only one spider though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 02:03:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4416824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurrus/pseuds/Aurrus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nobody knows, but Hawke is afraid of spiders.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beware of Spiders

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a silly story based on a line from wiki:  
>  _Like The Inquisitor, Hawke sees the Fearlings as spiders, suggesting that Hawke is afraid of spiders._  
>  And, you know, I just thought that it's actually kind of adorable. Or at least I thought that it's something that Fenris might've though...

In the course of time he knew Hawke Fenris has seen him very different – he has seen ridiculous Hawke, drunk Hawke, awkward Hawke… Serious Hawke. Dangerous Hawke. Granted, the latter were not quite as often as any of the former, but still were not exactly something he was unaccustomed to.

But for the life of him Fenris couldn't remember if he had ever seen Hawke afraid. He always seemed so brave and reckless fighting demons, darkspawn, blood mages and whatnots; it never crossed Fenris’ mind that Hawke could fear anything – not to say that he denied the Champion the right to be, just never really thought about it.

So it came somewhat of a shock to see Hawke nearly fly to the wall opposite of a pile of trash in his foyer, sickly pale and breathing hard.

“Hawke?” Fenris inquired curiously; Hawke's head snapped in his direction, eyes going wide in surprise.

“Fenris?” He breathed out, almost guilty expression settling on his face as he swallowed, eyeing the trash warily once again. “I… Thought you'd be upstairs,” he added in a small voice, forcing a smile.

Well. Wasn’t that interesting.

“Obviously, I’m not,” Fenris drawled, leaving the skeleton he’d been moving from the room he claimed as his bedroom alone for now. “Is… everything alright?”

“Oh, sure,” Hawke straightened, brushing off some dust from his clothes, and smiled at him, this time more confidently. “I just, uh… wanted to ask if you’d like to join us in Wicked Grace tonight.”

“I think I already said I would come,” Fenris tilted his head slightly, unable to hide his curiosity towards the unusual behavior, but at the same time reluctant to press the matter. Still, he couldn’t help but glance at the trash that seemed to scare Hawke somehow.

“Yes, well, I thought we could go together,” he shrugged, and some of his paleness gave way to a soft flush on his cheekbones. At that, Fenris perked up a bit. Not visibly, of course; it wouldn’t do to show anyone how exactly Hawke’s mere presence affected him, lest of all Hawke himself – but he did like the idea of some alone time with the ever busy Champion, who still seemed to like him enough to allow it even after Fenris had fled from him three years ago.

And Maker, but was it hard not to sway under this inadvertent courtship. It would have been so much easier to convince himself that Hawke was better off without him had Hawke stayed away, but on the other hand, when have it ever been even remotely easy with Hawke?

So instead of keeping a distance Hawke continued… being Hawke, tempting Fenris with soft, if a little heartbroken, smiles, accidental touches that he didn’t seem to register but that never failed to send electric jolts up Fenris’s spine, and worst of all – with glimpses of what he truly was behind all of his humor and bravado.

Of what Fenris could have had.

He scowled at himself, brushing these thoughts off, and nodded, instead moving towards the offensive heap that, by the looks of it, still managed to unnerve Hawke. His movement seemed to bring Hawke’s attention back to it, and had Fenris not been looking for it, he would have missed the small wince that was quickly covered by a carefully blank expression on his face.

Despite a commonly shared misconception that he enjoyed the state of the mansion as it is – namely, utterly ruined and littered with corpses – Fenris did, in fact, take some time now and then to clean up so as not to tolerate the smell of rotting, if nothing else. It meant that he knew for sure that there couldn’t have possibly been anything _that_ terrible to cause such a reaction from Hawke; no disfigured bodies or rat-chewed faces… but then again, whatever he had seen on Hawke’s face didn’t look like disgust, and besides, they have seen things much worse during their various quests.

Something _had_ to be there, though, and since it happened to be – kind of – his home, Fenris wanted to know what could possibly be there to feel concerned about.

“Shall we, then?” Hawke interrupted his thoughts, once again his usual friendly self; there was no indication that his smile or attitude was forced, and Fenris frowned. Was he just being paranoid?

He contemplated plainly asking Hawke when something moved on a floor, and Hawke unmistakably took a step away from it before catching himself and stopping in his tracks.

Fenris felt his eyebrows lift on their own accord.

There, shuffling from the pile of trash to the small cobweb in the corner, was a spider – a tiny one, really, compared even to the usual habitats of the mansion, not to mention the ones they were used to fighting in caves all around the Wounded Coast. Nasty pests; Fenris held no particular liking to them, but mostly didn’t care as long as they were not trying to kill him.

It couldn’t have possibly been the reason of Hawke’s fidgeting, right?

“Hey, I see how fascinating this heap might be, what with all the… trash… that must be, like, super rare – but I’m almost sure that it’s not going anywhere, while we can get late at this rate, and I’d really, really rather not miss the first…”

“Hawke,” Fenris broke in his ramble, arching one brow and watching the spider pause a few steps away from Hawke. “Are you _sure_ that everything is alright? You look pale.”

Hawke huffed, eyed the spider briefly and rolled his eyes.

“Oh, I think I just know the perfect remedy – you know what I need? Some fresh air and then some not-so-fresh air of the Hanged Man. And some of its awful piss-tinted ale. Yeah. Shall we?” He repeated again, clearly anxious to get going.

The spider made a move towards his boots, and Hawke smoothly walked to the door, circling Fenris in his wake and smiling brightly.

“Are you… afraid of spiders?” Fenris wondered disbelievingly, shaking his head and feeling ridiculous for asking.

Well, at least he didn’t pick the pest from the floor to throw it at Hawke to test this idea. In retrospect, asking wasn’t quite as bad.

“What?!” Hawke gasped in an alarmingly high-pitched voice, his hand clutching the doorknob tighter in an unconscious reaction to something unexpected. “Of course not! What would give you such an…”

Both of their eyes fell back on the spider scrambling away in a hurry, and when Fenris looked up at Hawke, he saw him swallow hard and then deflate.

“Well. Busted, I guess,” he sighed, ruffling his hair and smiling ruefully. “I… it’s really stupid, okay?”

“We cleared out a cave full of these things two days ago,” Fenris blinked, confused and somehow – for reasons he couldn’t fathom – a little bit enamored with this bit of information. “ _How_ can you possibly be afraid of them?”

Hawke shuffled and chuckled, a flush finding its way on his face again, but this time it was of an embarrassed sort – which was still endearing, though.

“It’s stupid,” he repeated. “I mean, I _know_ that it’s stupid, it’s just… you know, not something you can help. I can control it to a point, of course, and I don’t usually let it show – it’s not that hard, seriously,” he shrugged when Fenris snorted. “What’s a flinch or two when you’re attacked by atrocities the size of mabari? Who wouldn’t be tense fighting them off.”

That… made some sense, Fenris had to give him that. Not that it made the whole thing any less bizarre.

“The Champion of Kirkwall,” he smirked softly, “cowering in fear because of a tiny spider.”

The sheepish expression on Hawke’s face immediately changed to one of betrayal and defiance, but before he had a chance to open his mouth Fenris shook his head fondly.

“No, I didn’t mean to offend you,” he said quietly, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “It’s… endearing, really.”

This time, Hawke openly gawked as Fenris went to the door as well, pushing it open for him as Hawke seemed to have forgotten of his intention to leave the place as quickly as possible.

“You’re an impossible man, Hawke,” Fenris murmured, wondering if he should add that he liked it about Hawke or not.

Hawke seemed oblivious to his pause and chuckled nervously.

“Since I already made a fool of myself,” he said as they walked in the direction of Lowtown, “I think I’m willing to risk looking even more pathetic and ask you not to tell anyone. Please don’t tell anyone. They won’t let me live it down, ever.”

As if he would ever share any piece of Hawke with anyone else willingly. Maybe it wasn’t much and maybe it was ridiculous, but it was strangely intimate, and Fenris took in this knowledge greedily, basking in the feeling of being the only one to know it about Hawke.

“I won’t,” he promised with a smirk, hoping that in the dimming light Hawke wouldn’t notice the faint blush on his cheeks as he said it.


End file.
